


I Want You By My Side

by Writingtosay_something



Series: This Could Get Hairy [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, I can get graphic and carried away during spooky season, Keithtober 2019, Klancetober 2019, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Allura (Voltron), Mentioned Hunk (Voltron), Minor Character Death, Oh also, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Keith (Voltron), This is tooth rotting fluff, Werewolf!Keith, and a werewolf, but there is blood, fairytale AU, fairytale klance, husband klance, im so sorry, keith is gay, klance, like a lot, this is written like a grim brothers fairy tale if that makes sense, this seriously isn't violent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingtosay_something/pseuds/Writingtosay_something
Summary: Fairy tale au with Werewolf!KeithKeith and Lance have gotten married and moved in together in a nice cottage in a distant village in the Altean Kingdom. Winter is on its way and every day seems to be more brutal than the last. Lance trusts Keith with his life but Keith is hiding a very important secret. He struggles to tell Lance about his past in an attempt to salvage their future. After their village is attacked, Keith continues to put off telling him.In a world where werewolves and other monsters attack the people and the people fight back, how is Keith supposed to trust that Lance is any different.This can be intense and exciting and has like suspense and such. It was written for Halloween so while it has fluff, this is not a coffee shop au and while they ARE roommates, this isn't cheerful. There are dick jokes and tender touches but this crosses into angst territory so please be careful because sometimes angst is upsetting I understand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so, I write klance a lot in my free time but this is my first ever completed and posted klance fanfic. It was supposed to be a short oneshot for spooky season (my favorite), but I got carried away and it is now much too long I'm so sorry. And this is stand alone but please tell me if you guys want to see more of it I have plenty of ideas.
> 
> I'm still not used to this website so please tell me if you see any mistakes!
> 
> This was beta'd by my best friend and talented writer, @starcrossed_writer so please check them out!
> 
> So without further ado, please enjoy (See the end notes for a funny story and questions)

Lance bustles about the "kitchen", humming happily to himself when Keith decides to grace him with his presence. 

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Lance whispers gently, voice laced with amusement. Keith's grumpy, early morning scowl visibly softens when a warm bowl is carefully nudged into his hands. 

Lance bumps his shoulder against Keith's and nods towards the table, "Go sit down, grumpy." Keith starts to protest but the look on his husband's face quickly shuts him up and he plops down roughly into one of their wooden chairs. 

Keith brings the bowl to his lips and sighs happily, smiling softly as the warmth flows through him and heats the chill that seems to bite all the way to his bones. With the winter being as harsh as this one is growing to be, this was exactly what Keith needed and Lance somehow knew. Keith lifts his head to thank him but stops.

He frowns as he watches Lance wring his hands nervously, brow creased with worry. He carefully sets the bowl down on the table and stands, making his way to his husband. Keith stops in front of him, ". . . Lance?" He tentatively waits for a reaction, not used to seeing Lance anything but obnoxiously happy. Lance's endless happiness never ceases to make Keith's chest burst, as if he's falling in love with him all over again. One could understand why seeing the love of his life unhappy is always so jarring to Keith. 

Hearing his name seems to break Lance out of his thoughts and he glances at Keith. When Lance speaks, his voice is lacking all of its usual confidence, "Sorry. . . I'm okay, don't worry." Lance forces a smile and gives Keith's cheek an affectionate pat. 

Keith brushes Lance's hand away and gives him the sternest "mom look" he can muster this early in the morning. When Lance just averts his eyes, Keith sighs. (That rhymes)

Keith reaches his hand out towards Lance, his pinky extended. The movement catches his husband's attention and a bit of the tension visibly melts off of him at the simple gesture. "We make a good team," Keith whispers, his voice so quiet that had they not done this countless times before, Lance might not have understood him. 

Lance automatically reaches out to wrap his pinky around Keith's in their unspoken promise, tugging their hands down once before lacing their fingers together. Just as he always does. A smirk takes over Lance's face as he holds Keith's hand. 

This time his happiness isn't forced. It always baffled Keith how easily Lance bounces from one emotion to another in such a short amount of time. But, he figures it's accurate to how Lance is with anything he does. Keith shouldn't find it as endearing as he does. 

Lance's smirk only widens at the subtle color on Keith's cheeks. If anyone asks, it's from the cold. 

"I told you I would turn your fopdoodle ass into a sap, didn't I?" Lance's face is nearly split in half by his own smile. _ His grin. _

Keith bites back a smile of his own as he shoves Lance's shoulder playfully, putting some space between them without letting go of his hand. 

Their little secret handshake. It’s been an intimate ‘I love you’ for as long as either of them can remember. A simple sign of trust. That’s all Keith is asking for. He’s showing Lance he trusts him, and that Lance can trust him in return. It works every time.

Lance breathes out a sigh and looks out the window by the table to his right. “It’s not a big deal, it's just. . . we got another snowstorm last night. This winter is going to be even worse than last year’s. . .” Lance hesitates, battling with himself, trying to decide if he should bring up a _ certain _topic. He apparently decides that, yes he should, when he opens his mouth to continue, “I. . . I really think we should go stay with her. . . We’d be safe and I know she wouldn’t mind.”

Keith feels a wave of panic wash over him, the chill settling in his chest isn’t from the frigid winter air. “Lance I don’t. . . you know I don’t like asking her for help. No one else in the village has that option. It doesn’t feel right.”

Lance nods solemnly, “I know but-” he grins, “-when your dad saves the princess’s life, she keeps you around.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly. He knows Lance has dropped the topic for now but it doesn’t stop his heart from continuing to pound against his rib cage. He isn’t safe at the castle. The castle means guards. And hunters.

Werewolf hunters.

Keith can’t risk being around the royal family and their band of werewolf hunters this close to his cycle, it’s suicide.

_ I should tell him _.

He should. Keith knows he should tell Lance but the thought of losing him over this makes his heart just ache. A large part of him expects Lance to react the same way he did when Keith told him about his family. ‘_ I could never hate you over something you have no control over.” _He supposes that’s just wishful thinking. Werewolves have such a bad reputation around here. Someone finding out you are a werewolf almost always meant you would be hunted. The name werewolf leaves a bad taste in most people’s mouths. 

“We _ are _a good team, y’know.”

Keith is startled out of his thoughts and glances over to see Lance studying him. The look on Lance’s face lets Keith know for sure that Lance knows he’s hiding something. _ It’s okay, you can trust me. _It’s written all over his face. 

_ I’m going to tell him. Today. _

“How about this?” he pipes up, grabbing his husband’s attention again. “I’ll go out today. If it’ll make you feel better, I can go hunting and gather us up some more wood,” Keith offers.

Lance perks up like a dog that just heard the word ‘treat’. “Oh! Let me come!”

Keith’s eyes dart to his husband warily, “You want to go hunting with me? You’ve never wanted to come before.”

Lance nods eagerly, “C’mon! You’re always talking about how you want to take me out and teach me how to hunt! Pleeeeeease? I can’t stay in this house all day again today.”

Keith hesitates, “I don’t know Lance, I. . .” Keith always assumed that Lance wouldn’t be good at it. Lance would be a distraction. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his husband dearly but he’s positive Lance will be too loud and impatient to actually catch anything. Unfortunately for him, Lance’s puppy eyes broke his steely demeanor almost instantaneously. 

“Fine. Dress warmly.”

* * *

Keith is a lot of things and he will admit to being all of those things.

Keith is, for example, so entirely and incredibly _ gay. _Very, very gay. Gay for his husband in particular. His husband, who should NOT look as damn hot in hunting gear as he does.

His husband who happens to be an amazingly talented shot.

Keith watches in pure shock and awe as Lance draws back the arrow, the muscles in his shoulders flexing, visible even underneath all of the warm layers. One of Lance’s eyes are squeezed shut and his brows furrowed in concentration. He lets go and the arrow flies through the air with a sharp _ fwip _ . It easily hits the target dead on. It’s his first try. _ Well, _it’s the first time Keith has seen him shoot, but something tells him that Lance doesn’t miss. 

The deer only gets a few more yards away before it collapses with a dull thud. Lance just does a little celebratory dance before quickly making his way to the wounded animal. Lance is already there by the time Keith’s mind catches up and he hurriedly follows.

Lance just quietly holds out his hand and Keith automatically sets the knife in it. This is where the author realizes she has dug herself into a hole and does not want to describe what is happening, feel free to assume.

Keith stares at Lance with wide, unblinking eyes. He watches and makes note of how Lance is very clearly not new to this at all. A breathless whisper of ‘holy shit, sharpshooter’ is all he manages to force past his lips.

Lance chuckles at him and lifts _ it _up, gesturing at their bags and the arrow, “I’ve got this if you’ll grab everything else and help me back to the house.”

Keith reaches down to pick everything up that they dropped, “But. . . what about the wood?”

Keith is a lot of things (gay being one of them). He is not, however, one to admit when he is wrong. And yeah, he shouldn’t have assumed Lance couldn’t hunt. But. . . 

Lance looks over his shoulder at Keith and smirks, his flirty tone verging on sexual, “Baby, I’ve got all the wood you need.”

. . .DAMN, was he wrong about Lance.

* * *

Keith plucks at the loose twigs on the logs he’s carrying, gnawing on his lip in thought.

“Yes! That’s perfect! Thank you! We’ll come back tomorrow too,” Lance calls out, cradling the large pot in his now wood-free arms. 

“Tell me again why we always drop off firewood to the blacksmith?”

Lance grins and they walk side by side back through the town square in the center of their small village. They walk back in the direction of their cottage. “His name is Hunk and we do it because it’s nice. And HE is nice. Plus-” he nods at the pot he’s holding, “-he always gives us food and Hunk is a much better cook than I am.” Lance says it in the ‘I’ve told you this a million times’ tone of voice but he gives Keith a smile that shows nothing but endless love and patience. Even when Keith asks him the same question countless times.

Keith starts to respond but he’s cut off by a loud, high pitched scream. Both boys immediately whip their heads in the direction it came from, looking for the source. 

One of the other villagers is standing in the middle of her small fenced-in area, hands shaking as her basket falls from her grasp and clatters to the ground. Lance immediately sets down the large pot and rushes over to her.

Keith stands frozen in his spot as he watches Lance gently comfort the woman. Lance has always been better with people than him. Keith tears his gaze from the two and a gasp is ripped from his lips at the scene in front of him. He lets the logs fall to the ground by the pot and dashes over to get a closer look.

The fence is torn to shreds, claw marks on every post still standing (not that there are many left). It looks like the area used to hold chickens. Now, all that’s left are feathers scattered among the rubble of the wooden fence, easy to see even with all the snow. 

What really stands out is the blood. It’s everywhere. There are droplets in a trail, showing the exact path the perpetrator took. The bright red is such a stark contrast to the white of the snow that it’s impossible to miss.

Written in thick red letters, _ Beware. _

The other villagers have started to notice and they gather closer to see what’s going on. Most of them gasp audibly when they see the message

It’s the comments that he notices next.

“Oh my. . . I guess it is that time of year, isn’t it?”

“You know I heard this is when they are at their strongest.”

“This year our fall harvest is on a full moon. . . We knew this was coming.”

“Someone has to do something about the werewolf problem in the kingdom.”

“Princess Allura promised us-”

“The royal family doesn’t care about the commoners.”

“We have to take care of the monster ourselves!”

_ Monster. _

That word feels like a stab in the gut and Keith has to muster all of his strength to keep from doubling over. He curiously looks over at Lance to see what he thinks about all this.

Lance is talking quietly with the woman, too far for Keith to hear over all the other chatter. Keith sees Lance glance up at one of the villagers throwing out the word ‘werewolf again’. Lance’s face visibly twists, nose scrunching and lips puckering slightly as if he ate something rotten. Disgust. It was clearly written all over his face.

_ Lance thinks I’m a monster. _

* * *

Keith doesn’t even look up when he feels Lance plop down beside him on the floor. He just stares straight ahead at the fire, watching it crackle and move. The flames bend and twist around each other as if they’re alive. He stays quiet. There’s no reason to say anything when he knows Lance can’t stand the stifling silence for much longer.

“Keith are you mad at me?”

He knew Lance would speak up eventually but that isn’t what he expected to hear. Keith immediately softens, guilt taking over the heartache that was previously occupying his chest. This isn’t Lance’s fault and it isn’t fair to take it out on him.

“What? No! No, of course not! Lance. . .” Keith holds out his hand for Lance to take. He does so, using his grip on Keith as an excuse to tug himself closer. Keith feels another pang of guilt when Lance wraps his arm around his shoulders lovingly.

“You promise? You’ve been awfully silent nearly all day.” The worry in Lance’s voice just makes Keith snuggle even closer, trying to show that _ no _he isn’t mad. Lance seems to get the memo because he relaxes against Keith and gives his shoulder a light squeeze. “Whew. . . okay good. I thought you were mad that I never told you I could hunt.”

Keith sits up in Lance’s arms, turning in his grip so that he can look at Lance in surprise. “You really think I’d be upset over something as ridiculous as that?”

Lance starts to laugh, eyes lit up with happiness, “I wouldn’t put it past you! Back before we started dating, you once didn’t speak to me for a _ week _because I got the last loaf of bread from the baker!”

Keith smiles sheepishly, the memory coming back to him, “Oh. . .sorry about that.”

Lance rests his cheek against the top of Keith’s head, responding automatically, “I still fell in love with you, so I must not have been very broken up about it.”

“Ha. Ha. Clearly,” Keith bites back, his voice lacking any real venom. He breathes out a content sigh, rubbing his hand on Lance’s knee, “But no, I’m not mad about that, babe.”

Lance grabs Keith’s hand and threads their fingers together. “My dad taught me. We used to go hunting all the time when I was a kid. He gave me a bow and set of arrows for my birthday when I was seven,” Lance laughs at the absurdity of it all when he remembers that last part.

Keith nods along quietly, his chest swelling like it always does when he learns more about Lance. He loves feeling like he’s getting to have another small part of Lance’s heart. (The dumbass is completely unaware that Lance’s entire heart already belongs to him). “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Lance just shrugs in response, “You never asked.” At Keith’s exasperated look he giggles and continues, “You always seemed so excited to teach me how to hunt, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Keith grins, “Guess I should be learning from you.” 

They fall into a comfortable silence and Keith chews on his lip. He looks at the fire then glances at Lance out of the corner of his eye. All the breath is knocked out of him at the way the flames dance across Lance’s beautiful blue eyes and the light and shadows flicker on his dark skin. Keith’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest. _ I should tell him. _

Keith takes a deep breath and starts to speak, “Lance I. . . I need to tell you something.” Lance looks over at him curiously, waiting for him to continue. “I. . . I am a-”

Keith gets cut off mid-confession by a loud crash and the boys immediately jump away from each other in surprise. Lance stands up and goes over to the window, pulling back the curtain to see if he can see anything. 

Both boys stiffen when the crash is followed by a loud howl. They share a look, clearly thinking the same thing. _ Werewolf _. Keith knows they froze for exceptionally different reasons. 

The same feeling of dread from earlier washes over him again as he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. A feeling he can only describe as warm chills flow over his body, starting at his neck and going all the way to his toes. A growl bubbles up in his throat and he pushes it down. 

Keith is lucky. He knows he is getting territorial. Protective. Protective over Lance. _ His _Lance. If he had been even a day closer to his cycle, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Keith would not be able to stop himself from transforming to protect his home. His territory. His family. The love of his life.

The sound of the door opening startles Keith out of his thoughts and he reaches out to grab Lance’s arm, tugging him back in and shutting the door. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Checking out the noise,” Lance says simply.

“It’s a werewolf.”

“Yes.”

“They’re dangerous.”

“That’s correct.”

“You can’t go out there. You can’t fight a werewolf on your own.” At that, Lance groans and slides to the floor. 

Lance crosses his arms in a huff, “I don’t like feeling helpless. I hate that this thing is terrorizing our friends and neighbors. I want to do something.”

Keith slides down next to him, “Let me go out there.”

Lance’s eyes nearly fall out of his head, “Hell no! If I’m not allowed to go out there, then neither are you.”

Keith grumbles, ignoring the way his blood boils. Every bit of his instinct is telling him to get that other werewolf out of his territory. He settles on just leaning over and nuzzling against Lance. It is 100% a very innocent gesture of affection and Keith is not at all scenting him. Nope. This is not him being possessive. No chance.

Lance just rolls his eyes fondly at Keith and nudges his shoulder, “Let’s just go to bed. . . We’ll scope out the damage tomorrow.”

Keith frowns at the thought of just letting the intruder go but he nods nonetheless. “Okay, you’re right.”

* * *

Keith jerks awake at a swift kick to his shin. He rubs at his eyes and looks over at his husband still asleep next to him. Keith frowns and sits up when his sleep-heavy brain finally catches up with him. 

Lance is much more of a morning person than Keith is, making it strange that Keith is awake before him. Careful not to bother Lance, Keith climbs out of bed and pads out of their bedroom. Without Lance’s warmth, the cold air hits him like a truck. Or a boulder. Either way, it was big, heavy and cold. 

Keith sucks in a sharp breath when an unfamiliar scent hits his nose. The events from last night slam into him out of nowhere. He quickly runs over and throws the door open, the cool wind making the hinges groan against the force. Ignoring the snow pelting his face and soaking into his animal skin socks, Keith runs out the door. 

Keith stumbles as his feet sink down into the snow every few steps, his eyes searching their area of land for any sign of the werewolf or damage they did. He feels his breath leave his body when he sees a trail of red in the snow near the edge of the woods. 

Keith runs that way, eyes taking in the two sets of footprints. _ Please, please don’t be an innocent kid. _

Keith stops so abruptly that he nearly slips and falls, the snow here packed into slick ice because of the mess of footprints. He flickers his eyes to the forest, taking in the way the blood is in a thick line, pressed into the snow as if someone were dragged.

In a rush of panic, he follows the trail all the way to a clearing. What he sees makes his mouth go dry and his blood runs cold. 

A woman he only vaguely recognizes as someone from his village stares back at him. Her clothes are torn to shreds and there is a silver-tipped arrow straight through her heart. Aside from the arrow, her arms and legs are covered with scrapes and cuts. The thick black line around each one gives Keith the understanding that whatever the weapon was, it was made from silver.

The woman is tied to the large oak tree in the center of the clearing, tied in a way that she slumps forward, her hands out in front of her like claws. The position reminds him of what a child would do to scare their friends when pretending to be a werewolf. This context makes it look a lot more real and somber. 

The snow by the foot of the tree is painted red with her blood and multiple intricate symbols. He recognizes them immediately. They are part of a special ritual that is conducted when a werewolf is “buried”. It is a very important part of his culture, but with the stigma against his kind, these special death rituals are being performed less and less. Seeing these symbols here, written in her blood. It sends a chill up Keith’s spine. Whoever did this knows a lot about werewolves. 

Amidst the symbols and muddy snow, another eery message is written in bright red.

_ Watch your back. _

Keith feels his heart race, all of his instincts telling him to grab Lance and run. Dread washes over him at how the message seems to be directed at him. His skin crawls and the words seem to eat away at his insides. _ Watch your back. _ If this message truly _ is _meant for him, it means someone knows. 

A werewolf was slaughtered and strung up a mere 5 yards from his home.

_ Watch your back. _

This is no coincidence. Keith feels his heart pound. _ Lance _. He has to go get Lance and get them as far away from here as possible. Even the castle feels safer than here at this point. Keith’s cycle starts tonight and if he doesn’t get out of here, whatever got this other werewolf would come for him next.

Keith feels more panic wash over him as he continues to slowly back away from the horror scene in front of him. He yelps when he slips on a particularly slippery spot, falling on his back in the freezing snow. The water seeps into his pj's and he quickly scrambles to his feet. _ Watch your back. _

Keith’s brain repeats the phrase over and over and his breathing starts to come out of him in harsh pants. He swivels around and starts to run full speed towards his house when he smacks his face into something.

Keith nearly topples backwards again when a strong pair of arms catch him and keep him upright. He feels his stomach drop, his eyes still watering from the hit to his nose and he sniffles. “P-please, just let me go tell my husband I. . .” Keith’s voice breaks and he trails off, trembling like a leaf in the strong grip.

“. . .Keith? Baby are you okay?”

Keith immediately stops his blubbering and looks up at the familiar face of a man not much taller than him. The fog in his brain slowly dissipates and he relaxes into the grip, “L-Lance?”

Lance nods and just carefully holds Keith to his chest, heart clenching when Keith bursts into tears. Lance gently guides Keith down to the ground, letting him sit in his lap to avoid getting wet. Keith just curls into Lance’s chest as sobs wrack his body, a trembling mess.

Lance just pets Keith’s hair comfortingly, “It’s okay baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Keith feels a sigh of relief brush past his lips.

_ He’s got my back. _

* * *

Keith glances out the window and picks at his sleeves nervously. With every passing minute, the sun just sinks lower and lower.

Keith is going to turn soon.

Lance gives a little huff and tilts Keith’s chin back towards him, in the middle of cleaning Keith’s cuts. “Stop squirming! You did a number on yourself running through the woods this morning.” Keith sucks in a breath through his teeth when Lance cleans the cut on the bridge of his nose. Lance just leans forward and kisses Keith’s forehead, “Okay, okay. I’m done.”

The time seems to fly much too quickly. The sky had already darkened significantly when Lance goes to put out the fire after dinner. 

Keith’s attention is so preoccupied with the moon that when Lance suddenly shouts, he nearly jumps out the window in fear. He looks up to see Lance gripping his forearm tightly. “Oh my god, are you okay?” Keith asks, leaping up to go check on his husband.

Lance backs away from him and shakes his head, “No no it’s okay I just burnt myself.” He laughs but it lacks any humor, “Good thing I rolled up my sleeves or my whole arm would catch fire.”

Keith eyes him warily but takes a step back. He knows him well enough to know that if Lance doesn’t want his help, there’s no use in trying. His husband is just as stubborn as he is.

“I’m going to patch this up and head on to bed. Take your time.”

Keith watches as Lance quickly scrambles to the bedroom and shuts the door. He frowns in confusion but it doesn’t last long. He feels the tell-tale signs of transforming start to prickle at the back of his neck. 

Keith leans forward to make sure the door is shut and quietly sneaks out the front, willing the squeaky hinges to be as quiet as he is. He tiptoes outside and into the cold air, wincing as snow and wind pound against his face. Keith fists his hands in his shirt to try and hold in some of his warmth. He didn’t want to layer up and risk tearing his good winter clothes.

Keith’s eyes water and his teeth chatter as he trudges to the edge of the woods, the prickle at the back of his neck getting stronger and stronger. He’s almost there, he just has to hold on a bit longer.

Finally, under the trees, the biting chill of the wind releases its death-grip on Keith’s insides. He slowly starts to take off his outer layer, the twitching in his fingers making it difficult to undo the buttons Lance has sewn into them.

A wave of nausea rushes over Keith and he drops to his knees. The ice is freezing on his bare skin but the warmth spreading through him is so boiling hot that he almost doesn’t notice. Keith coughs and his breathing rattles inside his lungs, vision going blurry as pain shoots through his face. He vaguely registers something hard against his tongue and he spits it out, blood splattering to the ground with it. The sight of a tooth swims in his vision until it’s filled with black spots. Keith digs his fingers into the snow and clenches his fists until the cold numbs his throbbing fingertips.

Somewhere between the pain of transforming and his werewolf instincts, Keith feels a twinge of fear at the back of his mind. _ Watch your back. _ The words come rushing to him but it’s too late for any plan at this point. Keith can already feel his consciousness slipping and someone else is becoming increasingly obvious at the forefront of his thoughts. Some _ thing. _It isn’t him.

_ A monster. _

* * *

Keith’s head throbs. It feels as though someone is pounding against the inside of his skull, attempting to break free. He forces one of his eyes open enough to see that it is still dark outside.

_ This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be awake yet. _

When the thought hits him, Keith has the sudden startling realization that someone forced him out of his werewolf state. He slowly manages to open both of his eyes, but his vision is still blurry from the force of his headache. 

Keith feels goosebumps rise on his skin when his surroundings look oddly familiar. His stomach lurches when he hears movement, his ears twitching in alarm. He forces his body to go slack and he closes his eyes again when the sound of footsteps grow closer.

_ The smell. _

It’s the smell that really makes Keith’s heart drop. It is sickeningly sweet and, paired with the resounding headache, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from emptying his stomach on the floor. 

Keith hears the movements stop a few feet in front of him and, against his better judgment, he cracks open his eyes to get a look at his kidnapper. 

Whoever it is, they have a very intimidating build, one that towers over Keith from where he is slouched over on the floor. He gulps, watching them lean over a large cauldron hanging precariously over the fire.

It’s the outfit that catches his attention next. The slightly baggy pants that are tucked into tall leather boots. Tighter than most clothes in their time, but loose enough that they would allow for fluid and easy movement. The cape is vibrant, but the color is just out of his reach while he still has grays swimming through his sight. It’s long and elegant, the hood pulled over their head and a belt wrapped around their middle holds it together. Straps of leather slung over their body, various weapons fit snugly in each little compartment. The finger-less gloves layered on over the sleeves of the cape are plated with silver armor.

Keith instinctively scoots back a hair at the sight of the silver armor. The way it glistens makes him choke up with fear. He doesn’t have to see the assassin’s face to know that there is a scrap of fabric pulled up over their mouth.

Keith’s brain doesn’t have to be clear for him to know that this is a werewolf hunter.

His head starts to pound harder and he can feel himself begin to panic. Keith is in no shape to fight anyone right now, especially not a trained hunter. _ Watch your back. _

The hunter must have heard Keith begin to panic because he turns towards him, a bowl in his hands. Keith’s panic starts to bubble up to the surface in the form of whimpers the closer they get. He uses as much strength as he can muster to growl weakly, but it tapers off into a noise of confusion when they simply hand him the bowl.

Keith looks down at it and scrunches his nose. The contents are pleasantly warm, but they seem to ooze around the bowl like tar. 

_ Poison. Who would’ve guessed that’s the way I go? _

When Keith continues to glare at it with distaste, the stranger gestures to it, his movements have an air of impatience to them. That only seems to make Keith warier.

“Eat it. You’re still showing wolf features. Being forced from a transformation is incredibly draining and painful. You’re going to want to take my advice.” Their voice sounds far away and distorted as if they are underwater.

Keith’s entire body feels too weak to argue, but even if he did, he’s sure they would make him take it anyway. He moves the bowl to his lips with shaky hands, his movements feeling slow and laggy. Keith nearly spits it out as soon as the sludge hits his tongue and slams into him with a sour flavor. Out of pure spite, he manages to down the entire bowl.

Immediately, Keith’s head starts to clear and he registers the dull throb in his jaw from losing his sharp canines. Without the headache controlling every move, Keith is able to glance down at the tail still attached to his body. The words the hunter said to him start to make sense. _ Showing wolf features. Forced from a transformation. _

The hunter seems to notice Keith’s gaze and he frowns, “Apologies. I still haven’t quite gotten the hang of forced transformations yet. It’s a delicate form of magic that takes years to master. It should go away after your cycle is over.”

Keith rubs at his eyes, the bright blue of the cape starting to pierce into his brain, and he’s happy that his ability to see color is coming back to him. The color compliments the sliver of skin visible above the mouth covering. He watches as the hunter pulls the scrap of red from his face, revealing more of the glorious brown skin. And the eyes. _ Damn those eyes. _

“You knew,” Keith blurts, saying it as more of a statement than a question.

Lance pulls the hood back to reveal his clump of messy brown hair and he sits down on the floor across from Keith. “Yes, I did.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Keith asks, his tone is much less worried than it is cold and filled with resentment. 

The ghost of a smile that was tugging on Lance’s lips immediately falls away and is replaced by hurt. “No! Of course not! Why. . . why would you think that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been lying to me this whole time! You’re a werewolf hunter! I bet you don’t even like me! You’ve just been getting close to me all this time so you could stab me in the back. Literally,” Keith’s voice is laced with a venom that nearly brings tears to Lance’s eyes.

“Keith. . .” his voice is much quieter and more patient than it was a second ago. “I knew you were a werewolf the moment I met you.” Keith opens his mouth to spit another insult at him but Lance swiftly cuts him off and continues, “ But I also knew as soon as I met you that I would move heaven and Earth to protect you and have you by my side.”

All of the arguments Keith had, die on the tip of his tongue and his heart pangs. Lance has always known exactly what to say. “But. . . aren’t werewolf hunters supposed to. . . I dunno. . . hunt _them_?” Keith asks, still trying to gauge whether he believes Lance or not.

Lance nods, “Well yeah, but I don’t kill innocent werewolves.” Keith scrunches his nose in confusion and Lance chuckles, “Not every werewolf is cold-blooded. You don’t kill anyone or cause any harm. My job is to find and kill werewolves that do.”

Keith watches in awe as Lance unfastens his arm braces and slides off his gloves, followed by his beautiful blue cape. He tries to shake the uneasy feeling, a small part of him still feels betrayed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

It’s Lance’s turn to feel betrayed. He shoots Keith a look that makes him want to wrap Lance in a blanket and hide him away from the world. “I could say the same thing to you! I’m your husband and, knowing or not, I wanted you to trust me enough to tell me. You should know by now that we are in this together.”

Keith crosses his arms defensively, “Well I didn’t know how you would react!”

“But you should trust me!”

“Not if you’re going to throw me out and never speak to me again.”

“I would never! That sounds like you made the decision for me,” Lance argues, his tone sounding broken. “You can’t just assume that I’m not going to love you anymore. Is our relationship really that fragile that we can’t tell each other our secrets?”

Keith frowns and looks away, refusing to look Lance in the eye, “Well last time I trusted someone that supposedly loved me, I got kicked out for falling in love with a boy.”

Lance freezes and swallows all of his words, a pang of sympathy squeezes his heart. “I’m sorry. . . I went too far.”

Keith huffs out a breath and offers Lance his hand, “No. . . that was an unfair thing to say for the sake of winning an argument.”

Lance feels his smile slowly return to his face and his tense shoulders relax. They have had their fair share of arguments, and despite their stubbornness, they always make up.

“Okay, let me start from the beginning.”

* * *

Keith watches as Lance tells his story. He talks animatedly for hours about everything he has been forced to hide from Keith for years. Keith altogether just listens quietly, occasionally butting in with a laugh or comment of his own.

Lance starts by regaling the tale of his parents and how they saved the newborn princess. His dad was a famous werewolf hunter and was regarded as the best in the entire kingdom. He eventually met Lance’s mom and they traveled through the kingdom, teaming up to keep everyone safe from harm.

They eventually ended up at the castle for a royal party to celebrate the birth of Princess Allura. By the time they arrived, it was already too late. The entire royal family had been killed by monsters. They were barely there in time to save the princess and the royal adviser. 

With an in with the royal family, they were able to settle down and become parents. They fought tooth and nail to train the guards and hunters hired to protect the castle and the kingdom. Unfortunately, with the hate and resentment towards monsters, nobody would listen to them. Lance’s mom wanted the land to be protected with compassion and sympathy. She wanted everyone to know that not all monsters were inherently evil.

Instead, she passed down years of werewolf culture and dark magic to her youngest son. _ Lance. _They raised him in the castle alongside Princess Allura and the two were trained to hunt from the moment they were old enough to hold a bow.

Keith stops Lance mid-story to ask him a question. ‘If you don’t hate werewolves, why did you make a disgusted face when the woman mentioned werewolves?’ Lance simply chuckles and raises up his sleeve to reveal a deep cut with black around the edges. Keith’s eyes widen. _ Werewolf. _

Lance explains that fighting the last werewolf, his own silver knife was used against him. In an attempt to cover it up, he faked getting burned so Keith wouldn’t be suspicious. ‘My dad was a werewolf hunter, but my mom was a werewolf’. Lance tells him that he has werewolf blood. It isn’t nearly enough to make him turn, but silver still leaves an icky line around every cut. Lance says that hearing the woman assume it was a monster made his blood boil.

Keith stares in awe at the cut and the boys continue to talk all night long. Lance moves on from talking about his parents to telling Keith some of his own wild stories. He tells Keith about writing the messages in the snow and how nobody ever talks about how long that takes to do. Lance groans about how he had to get the other monsters off his trail, but he wishes he had been less dramatic about it. The boys laugh at Lance and his dramatic reenactments of fights that were likely much less dramatic at the time.

It isn’t until the sun comes up and shines through the window that they even notice how long they were talking.

“C’mon, let’s go get some sleep. You’ve got another rough night ahead of you.”

Keith nods and lets Lance help him up and to the bedroom. The night ahead seems much less scary knowing that he has Lance by his side. He instead feels a sense of excitement and desire. A desire to know so much more about the love of his life and who he is. Something about learning you were wrong about someone you love can feel so freeing.

"So I was thinking-" Lance starts but he's cut off by a loud thud behind him and he whips around in concern. He quickly falls to his knees in front of Keith, hands shaking wildly. 

Keith is on his knees, doubled over and clutching his stomach. The pounding in his head is too much to bear and one of his hands smacks down onto the floor, holding himself up. A scream rips through him as a searing pain races down his spine.

Lance's throat closes up and his voice comes out in croaks, "Oh my god! Keith? Are you okay? I-I should've listened to my mama when she told me to study this. I did this to you. . . I'm so sorry."

A low chuckle starts to gargle up out of Keith and past the blood around his lips. Lance recoils in shock as it just gets louder, "Keith? Hey. . . it's me L-" A sharp claw digs into to the side of his temple and stops him mid-sentence. The force of the hit makes him slam against the wall and he rolls to the floor with a groan. _It's not him. _The ringing in his ears almost makes it impossible to hear the next part.

"You're weak. . . You're not a hunter. You can't even protect yourself. What makes you think you could protect him?" It towers over Lance, nudging his limp form with his foot, "I guess we have nothing to worry about, do we?"

In one swift movement, Lance is up off the ground and has it pinned against the wall. It winces when its head collides harshly with the hard stone. Lance just smirks and spits blood at its feet, one hand firmly keeping its wrists pinned to the wall while the other points his silver knife at its throat in warning. It flickers its eyes between the knife and the terrifying look in Lance's eyes before a flicker of fear passes over his face.

"Maybe. . . but _damn were you wrong about me__._"


	2. I Have You Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath/ continuation of the cliffhanger from the previous chapter.  
Lance and Keith deal with the repercussions of the secrets they have been keeping from each other all these years. Things get tense and their marriage starts to suffer. Maybe a change of scenery might help?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me say I am incredibly sorry. I have been dealing with some personal issues of my own that have hindered my motivation to write but I am back for now. This chapter was originally supposed to be like twice this length but after I have struggled with this chapter for weeks I realized I couldn't get the ending right because this chapter feels complete as it is. I have more things to do and more questions to answer so there will be another chapter. I already have 1,000+ words written for the next chapter so enjoy.  
(IMPORTANT INFO IN THE END NOTES)

“Maybe. . . but  _ damn  _ were you wrong about me.”

It squirms under Lance’s grip but he tightens his hold. This one is strong. Stronger than he remembers. Even in the tense situation, Lance can’t help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. His husband has to have a tremendous amount of strength and control to be able to keep this monster in check.

It smirks, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Lance nods over to the living area where the potion is still bubbling, “Just let me take you over there and nobody has to get hurt.”

The thing struggles in Lance’s firm hold, baring its teeth. Lance just chuckles. The lack of sharp canines due to an unfinished transformation makes the gesture far less threatening than it was intended to be. 

“He’s strong. He has far too much control over you to let you do  _ anything.  _ You’re going to lose, just give up,” Lance says, shaking his head. It tries not to show it, but Lance can see the hesitation. He knows his husband too well to not notice the telltale sign of uncertainty in his expression.

Lance relaxes when he feels the body of his husband becoming less tense under his grip. The hunter keeps his hold firm and unwavering, “It’s been a while since you and I have had a little chat, hasn’t it?” Lance nods his head towards the fireplace again, the intention obvious.

“This is the part where I get tied up, isn’t it?”

“So you  _ do  _ remember last time?” Lance can’t help the nipping, smug comment as it forces it’s way out.

It snarls and attempts to bare its teeth at Lance again, “You’re lucky we’re so fond of you, or I would’ve gone awol years ago.” The monster is trying to sound threatening, but the compliment is so glaringly obvious that it makes it hard to take him seriously.

Lance narrows his eyes, “Based on the way you threw me across the room, I don’t think fond is the word I would use.” He pulls the blade away from its throat but he keeps a firm grip on it as he leads them slowly towards the fireplace, his knife still poised and ready to strike at any moment.

Lance shoves the monster down onto the floor and chains its feet up with the same shackles he used earlier, but it doesn’t put up any sort of fight. Lance winces at the laugh it produces, irritated that it doesn’t sound anything like his husband. “What?” he spits out, turning around and heading to their bedroom to grab some of Keith’s clothes. The monster doesn’t answer Lance until he comes back with Keith’s favorite shirt.

“Are these really necessary?” it asks, an eery sense of calm surrounding its voice. Lance frowns at the chains holding the monster to the table, nodding. The monster watches Lance turn around and get to work making sure the potion is warm, “Lance. . . You know I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like other werewolves. You know I’m not a killer.”

Lance glares at it, “Too late .” Both of them know he’s referring to the scuffle from earlier without so much as mentioning it.

“Oh c’mon baby, you know I wouldn’t use your knife on you, like whatever monster gave you that,” it nods at the irritated cut on Lance’s forearm.

Lance shakes his head, kneeling down to pry one of the floorboards up (did I make floorboards? This is me, making floorboards) and grab out some of his ingredients, sprinkling a little of each into the potion. He scoops some out into a bowl and gets it ready to give to Keith when he is fully back. 

“ _ Lance  _ don’t be like that. I’m your husband,” it lowers its voice, sounding much flirtier than before. “Come play with me while I’m still chained up, baby.” 

Lance rolls his eyes, grabbing Keith’s shirt and kneeling down in front of the  _ almost  _ monster, “Nope.” With that, Lance throws the shirt at Keith’s face and steps away, letting the transformation finish itself. He winces and looks away, knowing how much pain his husband endures every time makes his stomach churn. 

Lance busies himself with putting his things away, trying to keep himself from thinking about the pained groans coming from the other side of the cozy room. Lance jerks his head up in alert when he hears the small “. . .Lance?”. He turns around and breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of his husband. Keith appears to be back to his normal self, the shirt discarded on the floor next to him. Lance grabs the bowl of potion and hands it to him, kneeling down in front of him.

“Are you okay. . .? Back to normal?”

Keith completely ignores the question, taking the bowl from Lance’s hand and downing the contents. “It was you!” Keith blurts out as soon as the gooey potion has been swallowed. 

Lance startles at the suddenness, blinking slowly, “Ah. . . yes?” Keith opens his mouth to say something more but Lance interrupts, speaking again, “You should go to bed, hon. It’s late and you’re going to feel sick if you don’t go to sleep soon.” 

Keith snaps his mouth shut, watching warily as Lance unhooks the chains from around his ankles. “. . .Lance. . . Babe. . ?” Keith reaches his hand out towards Lance, but the latter flinches away from the touch. Keith nods his head quietly, standing up.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

Keith feels his gut twist at the lack of love in Lance’s last statement. He stands hesitantly in the doorway, waiting expectantly for his goodnight kiss. When it doesn’t come, Keith turns on his heel and stalks out of the room and into their bedroom. As distressed as he is, Keith is knocked out the moment he lays down.

Lance winces as he leans over to tuck Keith into their bed, quietly kissing his forehead. He grabs his hip as he straightens back up and heads to their washroom. 

Lance uses what strength he has left to get the well water over the fire and warmed up. He struggles to lift the pot and pour the water into the bath. Tears spring to his eyes at the pain shooting through his nerves in many different places along his body.

_ It really threw me harder than I thought.  _

Lance drops the pot of hot water and frantically draws his weapon when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He brushes the hand off of his shoulder, lifting his knife so it is between him and the intruder.

Keith raises his hands in defense and he takes a frightened step back. The fear makes his voice waver slightly, “Whoa! Hey- Lance it’s. . . hey. . . it’s me, babe. . . it’s me.”

Lance lets the hand holding his knife drop to his side and he sighs, tiredly mumbling out an apology as he kneels down to pick the pot of water back up. He relaxes a little when he sees that not much of his bathwater was spilled out. Lance grunts as he tries again to pour the water into the bath.

Keith exhales shakily and calms his trembling hands, stepping forward to help Lance lift the bucket and pour in the water. Lance starts to protest, but Keith easily grabs the pot and dumps its contents into their bathtub. Keith steps back and holds his hand out to Lance in offering, forcing his face to remain expressionless. 

Lance swallows his pride and takes Keith’s hand, letting Keith help him stand. Lance flickers his eyes away from Keith’s face, biting his lip and raising his arms silently in question. Keith seems to understand and carefully helps Lance get undressed. Keith’s hands linger on the gorgeous blue of the cape, mind reeling with questions but he stuffs them to the side.  _ Lance said we would talk in the morning. . . technically it  _ is  _ morning.  _ His thoughts are interrupted by a soft grunt, he glances up and sees Lance getting into the bath by himself. 

Keith’s eyelids droop tiredly but he still kneels beside Lance and watches him attempt to sponge himself clean. He grimaces at the dark and ugly spots all over Lance’s skin and the ones already starting to blossom from earlier. Keith gently nudges Lance’s hands away and carefully starts cleaning his husband for him.

Lance’s voice is barely above a whisper when he finally speaks up and fills the silence, “. . . I can do it.”

Keith shakes his head, keeping his words short and blunt as he focuses on helping his husband, “You’re hurt.”

“I’ve been hurt before. I can do this myself,” Lance gains confidence and volume with each word.

_ Not by me,  _ his brain fills in for him. Keith keeps his gaze focused pointedly at the task at hand, “Just let me help you.”

“Go to bed.”

The firmness in Lance’s voice makes Keith’s heart pang with guilt. His bottom lip wobbles as he tries to keep his cool.

“. . . Keith.”

The sound of Lance saying his name brings him back to reality. Lance carefully tries to coax the washrag out of Keith’s clenched and shaking fist. Keith jerks out of Lance’s grip, reaching up to wipe at the tears on his cheeks. How long has he been crying?

Lance manages to force the wet cloth from Keith’s hands and he sets it to the side, leaning over the side of the tub to pull Keith in for a hug. Keith chokes out a laugh, trying to push Lance away, “Lance c’mon go away, you’re getting me all wet.”

Lance ignores him and tugs him forward for a little kiss. The movement tugs at his sore muscles but he puts on a brave face for Keith. “Get in,” Lance orders out of nowhere.

Keith laughs more and wipes at his bloodshot eyes, sniffling softly. “Lance, there’s barely enough room for you and your lanky self in there. I’m not getting in that bathtub with you,” he responds, his tension already starting to melt away. Lance has always had a way of doing that to him.  _ I suppose that’s why I married him _ .

Lance smirks, trying to tug Keith forward, “You’ve got that sappy look on your face. That means I’ve convinced you, haven’t I?”

Keith rolls his eyes and lets Lance pull him forward, “Lance, even if I wanted to, I won’t fit.” Lance uses the opportunity to suddenly pull with all of his strength, successfully catching Keith off guard and pulling him into the tiny tub. Keith yelps, unable to do anything but flop ungracefully on top of Lance in the bath, clothes and all. Keith braces himself against the sides of their tub, trying his darnedest to keep himself out of the water as much as possible.

Keith tries to scramble out of the water but Lance simply grins and wraps his arms around Keith’s waist. “Lance!  _ Lance,  _ you’re getting me wet. Let me go, asshole,” Keith says, a hint of playfulness seeping into his voice. 

Lance reaches a wet hand up to wipe at Keith’s cheeks, suddenly serious, “Please don’t cry. . . I hate when you’re upset.” Keith’s eyes widen and he relaxes his grip on the sides of the tub, slowly sinking down into the water and onto Lance. It seems so obvious that Lance would dislike seeing his husband upset, but the sentiment surprises Keith anyway. 

“I’m really s-”

Lance interrupts him, shaking his head, “Don’t worry about it right now. We’ve got plenty of time to talk after we get some sleep.” Keith lifts himself up out of the water, stepping over the side of the tub. “Where are you going?” Lance asks when he sees the look of determination on Keith’s face.

“To pack. Clean yourself up, we’re going to see the princess.”

* * *

“Lance. . . you know I can’t.”

“Please? It’s supposed to get really bad.”

“I don’t feel right about leaving.”

“It’s just until the winter passes!!”

“I have a family, Lance.”

“You can bring them!” Lance follows him around, begging relentlessly. “I’m so worried about you and Shay. Your roof is still broken from last winter, and the monsters have been really bad this year. Just. . .” Lance sits on the work table and follows Hunk with his eyes, “Maple can help me with the garden and you’ll get the kitchen all to yourself.”

Hunk sets down his tools, glancing over at Lance, “. . .Just like old times?”

Lance leaps off the workbench, excitement bubbling up very quickly, “Yes!! Except now we’re both married.” He wraps his arms around Hunk’s middle, “We leave at mid-day. Meet me in the town square?”

Hunk softens, “Of course. . . Where’s Keith?” Lance continues to hold onto Hunk, letting the poor man drag him around the shop. Hunk flickers his eyes over to the door when Lance points in that direction, “Outside? And. . . He told you? About his uh. . .?”

Lance finally lets his hands fall away from his one-sided hug, “Well, more like I found out. I tried to tell him everything, but a lot happened. I promise I’ll tell you later.”

Hunk watches Lance’s movements and the tired look all over his face, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Lance stiffens slightly, “Keith is waiting and it’s cold outside I should-”

Hunk waves it off, “You can tell me later. Just be careful, okay? You can get a little reckless when you’re tired.” Lance smiles and gives Hunk one last hug before yeeting out the door. 

Keith looks up and searches Lance’s face, shivering slightly in the cold, nipping air. Lance just automatically wraps his arms around Keith, doing his best to share some body heat. Keith leans into the warmth, watching Lance expectantly, “Well. . .? Is he coming?”

Lance smiles and nods, walking them back to their cottage, wrapped around each other like some dumb gross couple. 

Lance is taken aback at the sight of their common room when he steps through the door. Their stuff is all packed up and ready to go. All of it. Lance’s brows furrow in confusion and he turns around in Keith’s arms to look up at him, “This. . . this is a lot of stuff. How. . how long are we staying?”

Keith takes a hesitant step away from Lance, “I. . . I should’ve asked you first but I figured you might like a bit of a surprise. I was um. . . I was thinking that we might stay there uh. . indefinitely.”

Lance jumps backward in surprise, eyes wide and unblinking. Unable to really comprehend what Keith is saying. “But. . . what about Hunk? What about our home? Our village? . . .You?”

Keith rubs at his face, having a hard time looking at Lance, “Now really isn’t a good time to talk about this.”

Lance scowls, “I’m not just going to move without talking through it first. And what about the Princess? We can’t just move into the castle without permission!”

“I thought you would want this.”

“Not if you don’t!” When Keith doesn’t immediately respond, Lance continues, “I want to be where you are happy.”

Keith watches as Lance paces anxiously around their now empty room. He sighs, “Lance, I’ve thought about this. A lot. . . There’s clearly some stuff between us we have to talk about and maybe moving isn’t the best thing for us right now but it will be. We are going to be safer and I know you’ll be happier. I want you to be happy.”

Lance stops pacing and walks over to his husband, simply wrapping his arms around Keith’s neck, gentle, “ _ You  _ make me happy. A change of scenery isn’t going to change that, but. . . are you sure about this?”

Keith leans closer into Lance’s touch, eyes flickering over to the bag he delicately set Lance’s hunting stuff in. He turns back to Lance, mouth set into a straight line, “Yeah. I’m sure.”

* * *

“Are you two sure about this?”

“Listen, baby, Lancey knows what he’s doing.” The sharp elbow jab to his side (courtesy of Keith), tells Lance that maybe calling someone else’s wife baby wasn’t his smartest move.

Ever the sweetheart, Shay chuckles softly, trying her best not to jostle the large bundle in her arms, “Oh Lance, you know I trust you.” 

Hunk is looking around at every little noise, his big, strong arms are stuffed full with their things. If Lance had to rate the five of them on a scale from one to ten on how well they were handling this situation, Hunk would be a negative eight-hundred. He pipes up, “I trust you too, Lance, you know I do, but. . . this doesn’t feel right.”

Lance turns his head and looks over his shoulder at Hunk, giving him a reassuring smile. Lance is doing his best to lead the group through the woods before nightfall. Even though they left at mid-day, the snowy days are much shorter, and the sun is already threatening to set over to their left. Aside from the occasional pestering, they manage to remain silent for the majority of the trip. In the quiet woods, it’s easy to hear Lance’s sigh of relief when they reach a stone wall. 

Lance looks around cautiously, holding his breath and waiting to see if he hears anyone that might be watching him. He releases his breath several moments later and pushes hard at the stones in a specific order. The hidden door clicks open and he grunts, pulling hard to open the heavy stone entrance. Lance gestures into the hidden hall for his group to walk inside. Keith, always impulsive and filled with blind trust in Lance, naturally is the first to step inside. Lance carefully closes the door behind them once they have all stepped inside. Lance pushes his way to the front of the group and looks out at the darkness in front of them. He puts his right hand on the wall.

“Stay close to the right wall. Put your hand on it and follow me. I’ll let you know when you have to turn,” Lance instructs seriously. They all do as he says and place their hand on the wall. Lance starts to lead the way, occasionally calling out for things to watch out for and directions when they have to turn. All three of them are surprised at Lance’s leading abilities. They are even more shocked when they step through a door and realize Lance has lead them directly into the west wing of the castle.

Shay tenses up when a pair of guards come walking directly towards them. Lance steps forward and has a hushed conversation with them. The pair quickly straightens up and salutes him before walking back in the direction that they came. Shay watches the entire interaction with awe. Hunk smiles fondly at her and leans over, “You’ll get used to that eventually.”

* * *

“Lance, are you completely insane?”

Lance flinches at the harsh words but he recovers quickly, “I know Princess but hear me out-”

Allura interrupts him, livid, “You could have gotten yourself killed! And using expired ingredients? It is no wonder he did not stay human for long! You have to be more careful! You  _ know  _ werewolf transformation is very serious and powerful magic!”

Lance looks up at her in surprise, “Wait. . . _ That  _ is what you’re mad about?”

Allura tilts her head to the side, her long white hair falling that direction as well. “Well, of course. Why else would I be mad?”

Lance sits down at her desk, “I figured you would be mad at me for showing up unannounced. Not to mention showing up with other people and a husband that wants us to stay forever.”

Allura waves her hand in the air, “Hunk has been a very serious help to us many times in the past. I consider him a good friend and welcome him and his family to stay whenever they need.”

“You just miss his cooking.”

Allura slumps forward, admitting, “I miss his food so badly. That does not mean that the other things I said are untrue.”

Lance just smirks, “Besides Hunk and his food, are you sure you’re not mad I showed up?”

Allura shakes her head immediately, “All of us have missed you dearly since the two of you decided to depart from the castle. The occasional visit to talk to the guard simply is not enough Lance time. Or Keith! We have not seen him in a decaphoeb! It will be a pleasure to have the entire team back in the same place again. The castle has not been the same since the two of you left.”

Lance melts, searching her face carefully, “Princess. . . If you want us back in the castle, we would be happy to stay.”

Allura smirks, handing Lance a sheet of paper, “You start tomorrow.”

* * *

Keith shifts around in his seat, trying his best to listen to the lesson but his eyes keep getting stuck on the teacher. He can’t help himself as he watches every graceful movement. It’s so obvious he knows what he’s talking about. He is incredibly passionate as well. But Keith is struggling to focus on anything but how pretty his teacher is. And the cape.   
_  
God, that cape.  
_  
It’s so blue that it brings out Lance’s eyes. Even with the hood of the cape and the fabric covering his mouth, it’s impossible to ignore such pretty blue eyes. It’s thrilling. It’s so thrilling to know that he is the only person in the room that knows the identity of the person under the hood.

Keith is violently knocked out of his thoughts when said beautiful teacher clears his throat. He looks up and meets those pretty blue eyes. Keith’s face gets hot when he realizes that it isn’t just Lance’s eyes that are on him. 

Lance’s pretty eyes glint with amusement and he talks with a voice that isn’t his own, “Try and pay attention, alright? We’ll talk after the lesson.” Keith swallows hard, quickly forcing his brain to focus on taking notes instead of staring.

“As I was saying, forcing transformations is a very delicate practice. It takes years and years of skill to master, and even then, I wouldn’t really call it mastering. Even  _ I  _ got stuck with a failed potion just the other day. You are never to attempt this without help from the Princess or myself. If a transformation goes wrong, you put yourself and the werewolf in danger.

You, in the front row. Say you come upon a friendly, or, how shall I put this, a  _ nonlethal  _ werewolf. Do you attempt a forced transformation?”

The guard in the front row hesitates, “Uh. . . no?”

Lance doesn’t show any sign as to which was the correct answer. He simply asks, “Okay, why not?”

Someone from the back of the class speaks up, “Because there’s no such thing as a good werewolf.” This comment earns a couple of chuckles from the hunters. 

Lance narrows his eyes and the room falls dead silent, his voice has a venom in it that even makes Keith shiver. “Try again,” Lance prompts.

Another person speaks up, voice wavering, “U-um no, you would not attempt it unless you or the Princess is there to help.”

Lance’s scary glare disappears and his eyes crinkle at the corners, an obvious sign that he is smiling under the cloth. They all relax and Lance starts to take his notes down from the wall, signaling that the lesson is over and the floor is open for questions. He points to one of the raised hands, “Go.”

“Sir, why wouldn’t one just throw the human’s clothing at it? Isn’t it supposed to coax them out of their wolf state?”

Lance crosses his arms, “That’s a good question. Over the years, the monsters have started to get stronger. Simply tossing undergarments at a wolf isn’t going to turn it back. For that to work, you would have to toss the werewolf’s favorite article of clothing at them while they are in a weakened state. Asleep or in the middle of transforming, for example.” As he finishes, his eyes subtly glance over at Keith when he mentions the last bit. 

Keith listens and takes notes as Lance answers everyone’s questions. He stays put in his seat even after Lance dismisses the class. 

Lance searches the room to make sure the coast is clear, he looks up and receives the all-clear signal from the guard by the door. He dismisses the guards and shuts the door behind them, leaving him alone with Keith. 

“Seriously? Keeping me after everyone else leaves? Isn’t that a little obvious? They’re going to guess who you are if you play favorites with me, Lance.”

Lance pushes his hood back and pulls the fabric away that covers his mouth. “Really? I’m sure that’s waaaay more obvious than blatantly staring at the teacher. Smooth, Keith,” Lance retorts, voice still deeper and distorted. Lance opens his mouth and pulls out the purple leaf that was sitting under his tongue. He sets it to the side, voice back to normal, “I’m not a super nice hunter, it would’ve been even more obvious if I didn’t call you out.”

Keith pouts, putting his notes together to try and hide his redder than normal face, “I guess you’re right. . . I’m sorry for getting distracted. You just look so nice in your hunter outfit.”

Lance smiles fondly, “Aww, that’s so cute.” Keith pouts harder in response. “Not that I don’t love that you’re staring at me, but. . . you never stared at me before. I never caught you staring when I used to train you all those years ago.”

Keith turns even redder, eyes cast to the side.

“I did, you just didn’t notice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN PLS IMPORTANT INFO  
I'm in the middle of the next chapter so hopefully it should be out soon (if these college assignments don't kill me)  
I really think the next part will be the end and final chapter of this au in the future. Everything I do from now on should be young annoying pining babies.  
Also I have a couple of other AUs in mind I might write but seriously the comments fuel my inspiration. If you have any ideas for this story let me know and I will 10000000% use them. You can reach me on tumblr @waywardsisters17 or @beelieveimwrite so. . . yeah enjoy?  
oh yeah If you see any mistakes let me know because I seriously posted this without telling my "beta reader" (aka besfren) or letting anyone proofread it so. . . yep my bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so FYI everything is okay and nobody is hurt/ dead they are okay Lance knows what he's doing. I see Keith and the werewolf as two different beings, Keith simply wasn't strong enough to keep it at bay.
> 
> Story time: Okay so I was writing pretty late at night after classes and I had a bunch of ideas that I didn't want to forget. In my half- asleep haze I wrote myself the following notes that I read the next morning:  
"talka about lance juntinh being good at it why
> 
> Heu need to tyalk tyo you abouy somthinh
> 
> Were wolf-
> 
> Loud vrsh bang anf wolf noises
> 
> Lance convincecd keith to go to bed and him go invewsivagte
> 
> Bam ploty"
> 
> This is the exact spacing and spelling that I had to decode the next day. I laughed so hard when I saw it because lbr it looks like I was drunk.
> 
> Anyway! Please please tell me what you thought bc I thrive on comments and coffee and I honest to god have more ideas for this if you guys want more because there are many questions I have yet to answer but I won't unless this gets attention. If you guys had to choose, what would you like to read next?  
1) Lance and Keith's meeting (Lance's POV)  
2) The meeting but Keith's POV  
3) Lance's POV of the events in the fic (+ bonus him getting Keith back and out of his werewolf state)  
4) Lance + Hunk's DealTM  
5) Keith backstory  
6) Lance's childhood drabbles ft. Allura


End file.
